#bensns

       she begins to fidget with her wine glass as she studies the brunette. there weren’t a lot of things that she regretted in her life, but her treatment of the squad, of olivia, was the one thing that she’d always end up kicking herself in the ass for. there were certain things that she’d never forget; the searing pain as a bullet ripped through her shoulder that september night was one of them, but the most prominent image, or images rather, that she couldn’t get out of her head no matter how hard she tried, was the look on olivia’s and elliot’s face when she told them that she was leaving to go into witness protection, or the look of betrayal on their faces when she came back after three years without a word only to leave again several months later to join the ICC.    “ liv... i just... i haven’t been a good friend to you and i’ve treated you unfairly. and if i could turn back the clock to before... ” she shakes her head knowing that it was impossible, “ i just wanted to apologize, and let you know that if you wanted to talk about it, i’m always willing to lend an ear. ”

        there was something different about tonight.   his mom was late,   he noticed.   kept an eye on the clock as he finished up his history essay,   right from his spot on the couch.   he might have even sent a few texts too many in her direction,   in regards to where she was.    &   as the minutes passed on,   the air seemed to leave his lungs more   &   more.   as soon as she walked in the door the teenager had been on his feet.            “      you’re home.   thought you might have gotten lost or something.      ”            &   that may not be the whole truth,   but a smile sneaks its way onto his face to mask those worries.            “      i ate dinner,   did the dishes.   chores done.   i just finished my homework.   i’m kind of tired,   i think i’m gonna head to bed.      ”            he steps closer,   arms wrapping around her.   tighter than usual.             “      i love you,   mom.   ”

       his bedroom door is closed as fast as he enters the room,   books being tossed onto his bed from across the way.   his back slides down against the door as he makes his way to the floor,   knees pulled up to his chest.   elbows rest carefully against them as he lowers his head,   fingers running through his curls.   tugging at them.   the panic in him should have subsided,   she was home.   she was safe.   she wasn’t walking away,   or leaving him behind.   everything was fine.   so,   why did it hurt to breathe?   the next half an hour is spent in that exact position,   forcing himself to take deep breaths while tears blur out his vision. 

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it’d  be  easy  to  blame  her  attitude  on  her  years  working  for  gibbs  ------  for  his  team  does  reign  in  infamy  for  not  playing  nice  with  others  -------  but  the  truth  is,    she’s  always  been  this  bitchy  in  matters  of  genuine  concern.     the  other’s  office  is  certainly  not  her  domain  in  which  to  rave,    yet  here  the  tirade  begins,    hand  on  hip  and  mouth  agape.  

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